


It Just Fell Into My Hand, Honest

by lost_spook



Category: Blake's 7, Public Eye (TV)
Genre: 1970s, Crossover, Ficlet, Gen, Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 06:37:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4909111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_spook/pseuds/lost_spook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank finds a thief in his office.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Just Fell Into My Hand, Honest

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an LJ meme prompt: Frank Marker + Vila Restal – happy birthday

“Hey!” said Frank, returning to his office to find a stranger rifling through his desk drawers. “What d’you think you’re doing?”

His would-be thief looked up with a disarming smile. “I was waiting to see you and – well, then I sort of dropped a credit piece in your drawer that just happened to be open. You know how it is.”

“Yeah,” said Frank. “I do. Same way you found the door open, I suppose.”

“It was!”

Frank had been known to leave it unlocked when nipping over the road for a few groceries, but as he’d been tailing someone for the past few hours, he was pretty certain he’d locked up properly. “And,” he added, “you can give me back that envelope. The cash isn’t mine; it belongs to a client. I can’t afford to lose it, you know.”

“What envelope?”

Frank sighed again, and leant back against the door, his arms folded.

“Oh, all right, I’m sorry,” said his intruder. “There you go. But I seem to be stranded here, so I was in need and – and – it’s my birthday!” He gave another hopeful smile.

Frank gave a further weary sigh, and gestured at his intruder to take a chair. “Tea?” he said. “Oh, and if I were you, if you’ve nicked anything else, I’d give it back before Inspector Firbank gets here. Got a sixth sense about when I put the kettle on, worse luck.”

Vila looked innocent, but replaced two pencils on the desk. Frank was impressed. He’d thought he only had one left.

“Now,” he said, while he boiled the kettle, even though he knew he was going to regret it. “What d’you mean, stranded?”


End file.
